Seize Me

Chapter 7

"If it's something that you want,

Darling you don't have to run,

You don't have to go

Just stay with me, baby stay with me."

Parachute-Kiss Me Slowly

I knew something was up when Gale asked me to go get lunch with him. Alone. A part of me was relieved when he'd mentioned getting lunch together, telling everyone else we'd go just the two of us, if that was okay. We've been on the road with the boys for almost two weeks now, and the tension that seizes my body every time I'm in close quarters with Peeta is starting to wear on me. It's getting harder and harder to ignore him and my nerves are shot by the effort.

It should have been easy to ignore him, especially because he's been ignoring me too ever since the incident at the club that second night on tour with them. He's polite and will make casual conversation when required, but other than that, he's no more friendly toward me than Rory is. Actually, probably less so. So of course the idea of getting a reprieve from that during our four-day break in Charlotte is appealing. But the gleam in Gale's eye tells me he's going to harass me about something he can't say in front of everyone else.

He manages to lull me into a false sense of security during the car ride to the restaurant, never once broaching any other subject than home, our families and each other. It's easy being around Gale—it's like breathing. He's an extension of myself, almost as much a part of my heart as Prim. Prim, Madge and Gale. The trifecta in my world. At an earlier time in our lives—after the death of our dads—Gale and I had talked about running away together, escaping the responsibilities and familial duties that had tied us to Twelve.

Gale had even asked me to marry him during our sophomore year of high school, before Madge and he had gotten together. He'd asked me a second time in senior year after he and Madge had gotten into a big fight and broken up for a few months. And I'd seriously entertained the idea a few times. I still find myself entertaining it when my thoughts get away from me, especially when my loyalties to Madge have been temporarily compromised by a fight or something of the like. The scary thing is some part of me believes Gale would do it, that he would run away with me to a deserted forest and live off the land for the rest of our lives, romantically or not. So I always have to watch myself around him, keep my emotions in check when they get tremulous near him.

It's not like that today, though, and I'm relieved. With Peeta now in the mix, I don't know if I could stand Gale messing with my mind today too.

The restaurant Gale takes me to is a simple little Italian place with a menu full of meals I actually recognize as opposed to some of the fancier menus I've seen at the well-to-do restaurants the boys have been parading us to in order to show off. It doesn't take us long to order after the waitress deposits our drinks and then she's gone, leaving us alone again. I hope the conversation will continue along the easy vein Gale's been keeping to, praying I'd been wrong in my apprehension over coming to lunch with him today.

Yeah. I'd been fooling myself all right.

"So," Gale says to start. I have to stifle a groan. I know it's coming now, whatever it is he dragged me out here to say. "We need to talk about something."

"I gathered," I say slowly, playing with the straw on my drink. "Must be important for you not to be able to say it in front of anyone else."

Gale raises an eyebrow. "I didn't think you'd want anyone else to know about this conversation, Catnip. This is for your benefit, not mine."

I know I don't want to have this conversation. I know it. I don't know how to delay him, though. It keeps him from spewing out whatever is making him twitch nervously in his seat. My mouth goes dry, and I can't think of anything to say, so I lift my iced tea to my mouth partially to wet it and partially to give my mouth something to do.

"It's about Peeta," Gale says suddenly, cringing a little in anticipation of my reaction.

He couldn't have waited until I'd swallowed, apparently. I still have a mouthful of tea when he says it, and it takes all of my self-control to not spit it out all over the table in horror. I force myself to swallow, gasping as it goes down my throat roughly, burning the whole way down.

"Peeta?" I croak out. I clear my throat, eyes watering, then say, "What about him?"

"He likes you, Catnip," he says bluntly, shifting nervously again. "And if you don't like him, you need to stop leading him on."

I'm stunned. "Leading him...leading him on!" How dare he? "I'm not leading him on at all! I barely look at him."

"Oh please," Gale says with some amusement, leaning back in his seat and crossing his arms as he stares me down. "You're not fooling anyone. The covert glances you're sneaking aren't as covert as you think they are."

I'm sure I look something akin to a fish out of water. I keep opening and closing my mouth, unsure how to reply to this. I hadn't thought anyone would have been able to notice. But if Gale has picked up on it, someone else surely has. Madge and Prim for certain—they're the two most observant people I have ever met. And while Johanna can sometimes be slow on the uptake, she's nowhere near as slow as Gale. It's a wonder they haven't all ganged up on me before now, Johanna especially taking pleasure in my discomfort.

Gale's face morphs into a small, stunned grin. "You like him, don't you?" he asks.

Shit.

"No!" I insist quickly. "No. I don't know if I even really like him just as a person. I mean, he's cute!" I say to Gale's skeptical expression. "But, I mean, like him? I've only known him for not even two weeks now."

"I didn't ask if you love him," Gale says with a snort. "I asked if you like him."

"I don't do either," I retort snappily, flopping my forehead down into my waiting hands, my elbows resting on the countertop. I bury my face in my fingers so I don't have to look at Gale. "And you know that."

"Yeah," Gale says with a dejected sigh. "I know, Catnip. But he's a good guy. And he's liked you for a while."

I spread my fingers and peer up at him quizzically. "I hadn't spent more than ten minutes around him before this tour," I say challengingly.

Gale rolls his eyes at me. "You are blind, aren't you?" he says sourly. "Do you remember when you came to visit me a few years ago in college and you stayed in the apartment with us?" I nod slowly, unsure where he's going with this. "Peeta was there. He was my roommate."

I know this, of course. Madge had told me at the beginning of the tour, pointing out all the times I'd probably seen him before this whole crazy thing. And I'm again reminded of how blind I'd had to have been to missed him. But then I hadn't really been looking all that closely. And somehow I don't think even if my dad had lived and everything had been perfect that I would have noticed him without the stage, without seeing him so confident. I'm almost certain he's never looked that way back home, and I wonder what his home life is like that made him so shy back in Twelve.

"After you left..." Gale continues, "he couldn't stop asking me about you. I could tell he was trying to be cool about it, trying to play it off like he was just asking about any other classmate from back home—"

"He probably was," I interject hotly. "He is a good guy. He'd ask after anyone."

"Not like this he wouldn't," Gale argues back. "He asked the usual questions too, but some of them were too personal for normal questions about a vague acquaintance. He'd ask about your mom and Prim, how things were going for you in college, how you were handling being away from them. If your dad's death was still wearing on you..." Gale shakes his head, raising his eyes to the ceiling in frustration. "It wasn't just that you'd caught his attention during that short stay in the apartment. He didn't just remember you from high school as one of my best friends. He's liked you for a long time, Katniss."

I can't handle this. I just can't. I let my face fall through my fingertips, and my forehead hits the table hard. I pull my arms over my head, burying myself as much as I can. I haven't felt this raw and vulnerable in a long time, not since our family fell apart over a decade ago. And all because Gale's telling me things I can't bear to hear.

A pair of cool fingers locks over one of my wrists, a thumb sliding gently over my heated skin soothingly. "Hey," says Gale lowly. "I didn't understand for a long time, Katniss. How you couldn't see Peeta staring at you back in highschool. Why you wouldn't let me love you all those years ago..."

I can hear the ghost of pain in his voice as he says this and I pull my arms tighter over my head, determined to block the sound out.

"I didn't understand," Gale continues, "until last night, when I talked to Prim."

I remember now them talking discreetly in Prim's and my current hotel bedroom, their guilty faces as I'd walked in and the way they'd abruptly changed the topic when I'd asked what they were conspiring about.

"What," I rasp out, "are you doing talking to Prim about this?"

"She's been worried about you," Gale says softly. "She's seen you with Peeta too, and she wonders why you won't do anything about it. Why you're purposefully holding back." Gale's working to pry my arms off my head now, trying to break me free and make me face him. I strain to fight him, but I'm slowly losing. "She told me what she'd told you a week or two ago. And how she wants you to be happy. She didn't understand why you still didn't go after Peeta when she gave you the go-ahead. But then we figured it out." He's gotten my arms off my head now but with the effort of keeping them both restrained, he can't lift my head up and force me to look at him.

"Katniss," he grumbles in a low, menacing tone. "Look at me, or I will embarrass you in this restaurant. And you know I'll do it."

"Damn it, Gale," I hiss. I throw my arms over my chest as I sit fully upright in my chair but still refuse to look at him. I lock my eyes on a cheap painting of a daisy on the restaurant wall, willing to burst it into flames. Willing anything to happen to get me out of this one-sided conversation with Gale. I'd even settle for Johanna bursting in and saying every crude thing she could possibly think of. But I'm disappointed when the restaurant stays quiet and there's nothing to stop Gale from continuing, from uttering the words that will break me.

"You can't keep hiding from love, Katniss." Gale says bluntly.

I'm so shocked by Gale's blatant and uncharacteristic spouting of the word 'love' that my mouth just hangs open and my whole body goes numb. Gale and heavy emotions don't go together. It makes the conversation almost comical and surreal now, and I can almost believe I'm dreaming this, that Gale is really on the other side of the hall between our rooms and I've had a little too much wine before bed.

"Oh, don't look so shocked," Gale says bitterly. "You and Madge both look at me like I've started singing Lady Gaga whenever I say that word."

"Because that word is just so...not Gale Hawthorne," I say, fighting a laugh as I recover. "Do you ever feel like you're going to spontaneously combust when you say it?"

Gale doesn't give me the satisfaction of a reply. He knows what I'm doing, knows I'm trying to steer the conversation away from myself. Instead he says, "I know it hurt when your dad died. I know how awful it was to watch how it killed a piece of your mom too with how much she'd loved him. Trust me, I lived through it too." I hear the faintest hint of a tremor in Gale's voice, one I only hear because I know him so well. "But you can't keep that from letting you move on with your life. Eventually you're going to end up feeling just as bad without ever having anyone as you would if you'd had someone and lost them."

I groan, leaning my head back into the plush dining chair and closing my eyes. "When did you get so philosophical?"

The waitress arrives, placing a ravioli-something in front of Gale and a Capellini Pomodoro for me. As if nothing earth-shattering is happening at this table, Gale graciously thanks our waitress with a kind smile and tells her everything looks great, but we'll flag her down if we need her. And then he launches into his food with his usual gusto, splashing a little spray of red sauce on the white tablecloth. I can't even begin to touch my food, my stomach rolling with anxiety. All I can do is stare at it, thinking of how good it had sounded to me before Gale had thrown all this on my shoulders.

"Hey," Gale says kindly, bringing my attention back to him. "You don't have to do anything you don't want to. In fact, you can pretend this conversation never even happened if that's what you think is best." He shrugs then looks me dead in the eye. I know I've made a mistake in letting this happen, letting my eyes meet his. Especially when he says, "But I know you Catnip, probably better than anyone. And I'm telling you: give Peeta a chance, or you'll regret it."

And then, as if this last twenty minutes hasn't happened, Gale's back to talking about Posy and her silly antics the last time he'd seen her, how excited his mom is to be downgrading to a smaller, more affordable house now that all the kids are moving on. And slowly I feel the knots in my stomach untangle, eased by the effects of just being with Gale. As much as this whole afternoon as left me raw, I know Gale wouldn't have dragged us into such a crappy conversation if it wasn't imperative that we have it. And I'm surprised when I look down at my food again and find my appetite's returned. I wind some noodles over the fork I have pressed to my spoon, wrapping them up into a bite I can manage without getting sauce all over my face. Gale halts mid-sentence for a second to give me an approving smile, then keeps talking as if nothing happened.

This is one of our first nights in a real stadium. Ever since the festival, all the performances have been at clubs like the one they'd played in the first night we'd met up with them. I'm glad we're able to be in the wings for this one and not on the stage with the rest of the crowd. Prim had wanted to be in the crowd a few times, to see the band up front and face-on. But Madge and I prefer to be behind the scenes and avoid the inevitable claustrophobia that overtakes us in large groups. Johanna doesn't care where she watches the show from—as long as she has a clear view of Finnick.

Things with Johanna and Finnick have been heating up for the last couple of days, which is surprising considering how bat-shit crazy Johanna had acted for a few days after the night at the club where Finnick had seen his friend from back in Four. I don't think Johanna would have acted so nuts if Finnick would have done something to minimize how he feels about Annie. But instead he let Johanna simmer and then allowed his natural charms to woo her back. I'm surprised at how well it worked and how easily Johanna let it go after her initial manic ranting. I was even more surprised that Finnick was even still interested in Johanna.

No. Interested is the wrong word. I get this sinking feeling that Finnick is just settling for Johanna because she's throwing herself at him and is so easily obtainable right now. As much as Finnick has grown on me over the last two weeks, I still can't help feeling that he's going to end up either disappointing or destroying Johanna. To make matters worse, I've heard someone sneaking out of the hotel rooms the last couple of nights and a quick bed check has proven it's been Johanna. And I have no doubts over where she's been going at night. I'm certain Finnick is involved and they're sure as hell not playing chess.

They're almost done for the night, having played for almost two hours tonight—an impressive set for any band. Yet again I'm in awe by their stamina and how well they can keep their energy level high for the crowd. I'm exhausted just watching them, and the only thing keeping me awake is the steady throbbing between my legs that's been a constant companion over the last week during every single performance. I'm doing my best to keep my eyes off of Peeta, to keep them on Gale or Rory, anywhere that won't provoke the sexual tension that's coiling up inside my chest. But every once in a while I can swear I feel Peeta's stare on me, and I can feel the throb intensify all over again just as I've managed to calm myself down.

I'm relieved when it becomes evident they're winding down for their last song. After seeing this process over half a dozen times now, I'm starting to be able to recognize their cues to each other. I can feel Madge reach over and she gives my hand a quick squeeze to draw my eyes over to her. She gives me a tired smile, and I know she's thinking the same thing as me. As much as we've enjoyed this tour so far, nights like this that go so late can really wear us out, especially when we have to smile for all the backstage workers all night while the band boys schmooze.

"So, everyone," Finnick says, addressing the crowd. "This last song we're going to play for you is a new one, never played before." The crowd whoops and calls in excitement as Finnick gives them a wide, excited grin. "It was written by our wonderful guitarist, Peeta." Finnick turns and points to Peeta, who gives a shy wave as a smattering of pink colors his cheeks. "It's one of our first sort of sappy ones, so of course it was written by Babyface Mellark." The stadium is full of girly giggles and shrieks to which Peeta's only response is a head shake and a steadily reddening face.

I'm surprised by this. I hadn't known Peeta was interested in songwriting, let alone had actually written something. I wonder now if this is the song they've been working on during our times on the bus, plucking away and arguing about cords. I know that Peeta had wanted it to be perfect, that he'd gone back and forth with Gale several times about different things, but this explained his intense interest in the song. He'd written it, and from the sounds of it, this is the first song of his they'll be playing. I think I recognize a few of the as an intro from what they've been plucking out on the bus.

"Now," Finnick says with a smirk. "I don't know if you guys have heard this yet or not, but we have a special guest with us on the tour." Finnick turns toward the wings in the direction of where we're standing and gives us a sly smile. "Gale's girlfriend is joining us on tour for the first time." This is met with a chorus of boos from the girls in the crowd, who I guess are some of Gale's fans. Madge doesn't seem put-off by the negative feedback; instead she beams proudly.

"And," Finnick continues, "she brought a few guests with her. They've become very good friends of ours. Actually," Finnick says with mock secrecy to the audience, "one of them had some reservations about joining a band tour. She's sort of hoity-toity about things." The smile he casts my way is teasing, and I roll my eyes in reply, lifting one middle finger to tell him exactly how I feel about the jesting.

"But," he finishes, "she's come around and I think she's actually starting to like this whole scene. So...this song is dedicated to her."

What!

I round on Madge, who's doing her best to look innocent as they launch into the song which is, as Finnick had promised, slower and more subdued than most of their music. I can feel the panic rising in my stomach. I know now by looking at her face I'm not going to like this, that I'm going to wish I was anywhere but here. Actually, I already wish I am.

"Don't look at me," Madge mumbles in a voice so low I can barely hear it over the music. "I didn't have anything to do with this. This is all them."

I'm working up something snarky to say in response, to tell her she should have known and that she needs to find a way to fix this now when Finnick begins singing words I'd never had expected.

"Stay with me, baby stay with me,

Tonight don't leave me alone.

Walk with me, come and walk with me,

To the edge of all we've ever known."

"No," I gasp, my chest constricting more and more with each verse that comes spilling out of Finnick's mouth. My knees are going weak and I can see darkness moving in on the edges of my vision, terror overriding everything inside of me. Madge's hand is at my right elbow and Prim's at my left, steadying me.

"Hey," Prim says soothingly. "It's okay, Katniss."

"You..." I barely manage to get out, my lips going numb, "You knew about this?"

Prim shrugs, doing her best to work up a calm face as I stare her down with a look I'm sure seems frantic. "Peeta showed me the song a few days ago, asked me what I thought." He gaze is firm as she looks me dead in the eyes and says, "I told him it was okay."

"I can see you there with the city lights,

Fourteenth floor, pale grey eyes.

I can breathe you in.

Two shadows standing by the bedroom door,

No, I could not want you more than I did right then,

As our heads leaned in."

I let my eyes fall on Peeta to find him staring at me intently, as if he's waiting for something. I can see how vulnerable he is now, how laid bare he is on the stage where he always looks his most confident. I know he's expecting something, waiting for me to give him a sign as to what I think of all this. I know that he's taken a risk doing this, publicly telling me his feelings. And even if no one else actually knows what he's doing, it's still enough to leave us both raw.

I risk a glance over at Gale, who's also looking at me. His face is stern and I know he's trying to reprimand me, reminding me of our conversation earlier today. But in this moment, I couldn't give a damn what Gale thinks is for the best. He told me I could forget all about it if I wanted to. I'm suddenly furious with him for not warning me about this. If this were the other way around, Gale would be screaming at me, spraying spit in my face from the force of his anger. Our disinterest in social situations and distaste for surprises have always been two of the biggest things to tie us together. I have never felt so completely betrayed by him.

I can still feel Peeta's eyes on me and I know he's watching the different emotions that must be showing on my face. I make myself look at him and I'm surprised when the wind is knocked out of me by the hurt look on his face. His eyes are pleading, and I know I'm killing him by reacting so poorly. Sweet, steady Peeta who's never been anything but kind to me. Peeta, who makes me feel things I've been running from my whole life.

"I'm sorry," I gasp, sure he can read my lips.

"Katniss," Johanna says in a voice I'm surprised to hear is low and coaxing. "Don't—"

"No," I say firmly, pulling free of Madge and Prim as I back away from the stage. "I just can't."

And then I'm running.

"Well, I'm not sure what this is gonna be,

But with my eyes closed all I see

Is the skyline, through the window,

The moon above you and the streets below."

I'm not sure where I plan to go when I go running off like this. As soon as I pass all the technicians I stall for a minute, panicking as I wonder where on earth I can go to escape, to get away from all of this and have a few minutes to think. I think back to all the times I'd feel trapped or in danger back home, in Gale's and my woods. A tree was always the safest place to be, a place where you could get out of danger's way and get the upper hand on the next attack. I almost sob at the memory of my woods, a place where I feel in control and safe despite the lurking wildlife. In a place so far from nature I feel nothing right now but out of my element and totally lost.

Where would I find a tree in a place like this?

And then my eyes fall on a set of stairs. Not stopping to think, I race toward and up them, blinded by panic as I climb. They lead to a platform overlooking the stage, where the stagehands would stand during plays to perform any number of tasks. I groan, realizing I haven't really escaped anything. I can still hear the music coming from below me, pounding into me with each bittersweet word I know Peeta's written. And they'd dedicated the song to me. A terrified part of me wonders if Peeta wrote that for me, if I'd been sitting there watching him construct the very thing that would destroy me. I risk a look over the railing to look down at the stage, to see what everyone's reaction is to me running away. I wonder if I'll be able to see the girls or if they'll be obscured from me. But first I look to the stage, seeking out Peeta.

But Peeta's not there.

"She shows me everything she used to know,

Picture frames and country roads,

When the days were long and the world was small."

Instead, standing in his place is someone who does have blond hair, but it's longer than Peeta's and the person is significantly taller. It takes me a second, but I finally realize that Haymitch has taken over the guitar in Peeta's stead. But if Haymitch is playing the guitar, where's...

"Katniss," comes a voice from behind me, low and soothing as if the person is trying to coax a feral cat from running away. A cool hand takes my shoulder in its grasp, holding me in place even as I move to run. And I know instantly it's Peeta.

"You," I growl more ferociously than I thought I would. I spin to face him with the full intention of punching him right in his perfectly square jaw but instead find myself in his arms with my arms pinned to my sides by his hands. "What do you think you're doing, pulling something like that?" I ask as I try to gauge if my knee will reach his groin before he can stop me.

"Katniss," Peeta says, this time as a sigh. "Just stop. Wait—"

"No," I shriek, trying to pull myself from his arms. "What right do you have? What makes you think you just get to do that to a person—"

"Hey!" Peeta says firmly, putting his hand on the side of my face with his thumb under my chin, pulling my head up to look him in the eyes. "What did you expect me to do, Katniss? I've regretted every time I haven't done something like this, gotten you to look my way."

"Oh please," I spit out, fighting the urge to smack him. "A few days on a tour bus together and now you're Romeo?"

"A few days...what are you talking about?" Peeta asks incredulously. He runs his free hand through his hair and looks up at the rafters mumbling, "Gale said he told you." But then he looks back down at me and locks his eyes on mine. "But of course you wouldn't listen to a word he said." Then the hand that had been in his hair is at my shoulder now, holding me in place as his eyes probe mine intensely. "I remember the first time I heard you sing when we were five. I'd heard the Valley Song a hundred times before then but when you sang it...all the birds stop singing to listen to you."

"She stood by as it fell apart,

Separate rooms and broken hearts,

But I won't be the one to let you go."

My throat closes up, and my mouth immediately goes dry as he says this. I remember the day vaguely, when the teacher had called for someone to sing the song. I'd been eager back then, not consumed with the worry over what people would think of me like I am now. She'd called me up to the front of the class and had me sing for everyone. But I don't remember the birds stopping. I don't remember Peeta Mellark staring at me. I just remember feeling like I could fly right out the windows when I sang that song.

"I tried to work up the nerve every day after that to talk to you, but I was a kid and you terrified me. But then our first dance was coming up when we were eleven and I wanted to ask you. And I think I probably would have if your dad hadn't died that year."

I exhale sharply with pain as he dredges up the memory up and for a second I think he's going to apologize or stop talking, but he's like a man possessed. I can see he's been holding this all in for so long that nothing will stop him from finishing this.

"I didn't know what to do. I sat there in class and watched you wither away with all the life sucked right out of you. I'd heard your mom had gone bedridden after your dad died and you were having to take care of Prim until she came around. I didn't know what to do, but I couldn't stand to sit there and watch you waste away. So when I got home I grabbed a bag of cheese buns, the ones you'd always eye whenever your mom sent you in to pick something up, and I took them over to your house. I got in a hell of a lot of trouble after that when Mom realized they were gone." Peeta shakes his head slightly and gives a little mirthless laugh. "But it was worth it. You weren't home when I got there so I gave them to Prim. She'd asked me if I wanted her to tell you I stopped by and I'd almost said 'yes.' But I chickened out and said no, to just give them to you. And then on Monday it was like something had changed over the weekend. You weren't the happy girl you had been before, but you were better than I'd seen you in days."

"Oh, I'm not sure what this is gonna be,

But with my eyes closed all I see

Is the skyline, through the window,

The moon above you and the streets below."

"It was the cheese buns," I say softly, tearing my eyes away from his as I say it. "They were the first thing I'd eaten in days,"

"Yeah," Peeta says softly with a little bit of a laugh in his voice. "Prim told me that the other day, when I told her about the song. But you'd just started hanging out with Gale then so I assumed it'd been something he'd done to make you feel better."

"Gale?" I ask with a slightly hysterical laugh. "Really, Gale? He'd been an asshole the first few times I'd met him. We met each other out hunting and he'd made fun of my traps for days. I was pretty sure I was going to end up hating him."

Peeta shakes his head with a small, sad smile. "Yeah right, Katniss. I saw him watching you around school, I'd seen the way he looked at you. Gale Hawthorne was smitten and I was too big of a coward to try to compete."

"You know he started dating Madge during Junior year, right?" I ask incredulously. "How could you see Gale looking at me and not have noticed that?"

Peeta rolls his eyes at me now and says, "I'm not an idiot. I knew that. But I still didn't think there was any way you'd look at me with Gale Hawthorne around. So I missed my chance again. And Gale was pretty much the reason I stayed away all through high school. He'd always been at your side, I even thought he'd stayed back from college those first two years until you graduated so he could be with you."

"No," I say earnestly, shaking my head as much as I can with it still in his grip. "He had to help out at home, thought he needed to stay behind and work in the coal mines. Madge and I finally had to talk him into leaving."

"I didn't know that until I went to school with him. And I really didn't understand the details of everything that had happened until we moved in together. And by then I'd written you off in my memories, promising myself I'd move on from my high school crush. And I almost did," he says this last bit dryly, but I can tell there's a laugh underneath that he's trying to fight down. "I'd actually managed to get serious with a girl by the time you came to visit Gale. He'd told me you were coming, but I'd been sure I loved Delly enough that I could ignore you the few days you'd be there. But then I came home from the grocery store and heard you up in Gale's room singing while he played..." Peeta sighs and gives my face a little nudge up with his thumb, making me look him in the eyes again. "Even Delly could see it," he says softly. "She could tell something had changed after you'd left, even if she didn't know what it was. She broke up with me, couldn't stay with someone who clearly wasn't as in love with her as she was with him. And then Gale told me you were coming on the tour." Peeta's voice is intense now, his eyes darkening a little as they bore into me, consuming me with their force. "And I knew I had to tell you everything finally. And then you could tell me how weird and stalker-ish it was, how uninterested you were. And then I might finally be able to move on from you. But then I saw you, staring at me on stage all those times. And I thought maybe, just maybe your answer wouldn't be no."

"Don't run away...

And it's hard to love again,

When the only way it's been,

When the only love you knew,

Just walked away..."

I really can't breathe now. Peeta's face is leaning further into mine now, his breath ghosting over my face. I can smell everything about him now, the cinnamon, the dill and the oil paints and I say dumbly, "Why do you smell like you've been in an arts supply store all day?"

Peeta's laugh is loud and booming, and it shocks me to hear such a happy noise come out of him in the middle of all the intensity of what he'd been saying. "I'll show you some day."

"If it's something that you want,

Darling you don't have to run,

You don't have to go ..."

Finnick's still singing below and I can tell the song is pulling to a close. A part of me panics, wonders what will happen to Peeta and me when the song ends. It's been as if the song's had an enchantment?) over both of us, drawing us together and giving Peeta the courage to say what he's always wanted to say and giving me the courage to hear it.

"Well," Peeta says with a low growl. "Say something."

"I'm not good at saying something," I say softly, pleading for him to understand, to let me go so I can run away and find somewhere quiet to process everything. To find my sister and throttle her for conspiring behind my back like this. For letting me be so blind-sighted.

Peeta's face is closer to mine now and our noses are almost touching. I think for a second to pull away and finally try to run, but Peeta's holding me firmly in place.

"Then come here," Peeta murmurs, brushing the tip of his nose alone the bridge of mine, making me gasp.

"Just stay with me, baby stay with me..."

It's a whisper of a touch at first, like a memory or a dream when his lips first brush mine, so softly I'm not even sure it really happened. But then they're there, firm and soft on mine and everything I'd hoped they'd be. They mold over my mouth as if they've always belonged there and it almost feels as though something inside of me is sliding into place, filling a place inside me I didn't know existed. It fills more and more with each brush of his lips against mine until I'm intoxicated by it. I push away his hands from their hold on my arms so I can reach for him with greedy fingers. They find the soft cotton of his shirt first, and I fist my hands in it to give them something to do, to keep them from sliding right up his body and into his soft blond hair, forcing myself to keep calm and slow down.

But then something in my chest hitches and Peeta seems to feel it too because his lips are moving feverishly against mine suddenly, as if he's seeking out something that's been lost since the dawn of time. I gasp in surprise at the change in pace, the way he pulls my body flush up against his and crushes my hands between us. Peeta uses the moment I gasp as a chance to flit out his tongue and caress me and I can feel the glide of his tongue ring for half a second.

Holy shit.

I can't help myself after that. I free my hands from between our bodies and latch onto his hair, and I'm amazed at how soft it actually is under my fingers, like gold woven into silk. The hand he has at my face, holding it to his, stays firmly where it is. But the other hand goes to my back to tug? me as close to his body as he can get me. His lips are gliding smoothly over mine now, both of us finding a natural rhythm without having to work for it. He slides his tongue over the seam of my lips for the second time tonight, and this time I grant him entrance. I let him dominate the kiss, too overwhelmed by the buzzing in my head, the warmth pooling in my pelvis and the feel of his tongue and its piercing against my eager mouth to do anything more than hold on for dear life.

It's not until the need for oxygen arises that we're both forced to pull away, heaving for air as we stare at each other. Both of our eyes are wide in wonder and I can feel the racing of his heart beating against mine. Peeta leans his head forward to push his forehead against mine, a small smile on his face as he lets his eyes fall closed.

"Finally," he sighs, his breath tickling my lips in a way that makes me want to reach up and catch his lips again, oxygen be damned.

"Finally," I agree.

"Hold my breath as you're moving in,

Taste your lips and feel your skin.

When the time comes, baby don't run, just kiss me slowly."

.x.x.x.

Eek! Words cannot describe how excited I was to post this chapter. I know you've all been waiting for this for a few weeks now so I am ready to hear what you guys think of it. I've been trying hard over the last chapter to respond to each and every one of your reviews on chapter 6 and I plan to make a habit of it.

If you want to chat with me (and I know you do...and I want to talk to you too!) you can find me on tumblr as simplyabbeycat. I've been posting excerpts from upcoming chapters so you can get a taste for what's coming and I have some drabbles that will be going up soon!

Thanks to the lovely Court81981 for betaing for me. She's kick-ass, inspiring and a pretty rad lady in general. If you haven't read any of her stuff, I seriously suggest you do! They're all sexy and sweet and fantastic reads.

If you haven't heard the song from this chapter (Kiss Me Slowly by Parachute) you need to. It's sweet and lovely with a kick behind it. It was a huge inspiration for this story in general. I'm not usually a 'song-fic' writer but for this it was too perfect.

So. THIS was where the story was ORIGINALLY going to end. However, I couldn't stop tossing and turning for a few nights after I finished this. There's more to this story that needs to be told. So please stick with me folks. It's going to be a crazy ride.